


A Month

by twitchtipthegnawer



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Cheating, Doin Crimes and Gettin Paid, F/M, Infidelity, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-03-14 15:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18951076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitchtipthegnawer/pseuds/twitchtipthegnawer
Summary: Beth Boland had a lot of stuff to juggle. A burgeoning business, a moronic husband, four children, an unruly younger sister, and a best friend facing insurmountable medical bills. That wasn't even taking into account the gangbangers she'd semi-invited into her life. Or the blackmailer who'd tried to get sex from her sister. Or the blackmailer who'd successfully gotten money out ofher.What was a middle aged suburban mom to do?





	1. Phone Calls

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for @commishion on tumblr! So the plot is all theirs, and I claim no credit for it :"") It diverges from canon as of the second to last episode of season one, though that should be fairly obvious for readers I think?
> 
> I haven't seen season two but don't really mind if people send me spoilers in the comments section! I hope you all enjoy reading <3 Potential triggers for child endangerment (though no children are harmed), marital infidelity, and uh, yeah, murder.

Day one (of what was to be perhaps the strangest month of Beth’s life) began in such a way that, in hindsight, she should’ve seen the rest of it coming from a mile away. At the time, however, she simply thought of it as a particularly shitty escalation of what had become normal.

She sat in bed, staring at her phone. Her most recent text to her sister read,  _ Are you asleep yet?  _ But the question she was asking was a far more complicated one than that.

A mere hour ago, at almost exactly midnight, Annie had looked between her and Ruby. The car was stopped in front of Ruby’s house, and a set of car keys weighed heavily in Beth’s pocket.

“I’m gonna warn Eddie,” Annie burst out.

“I’m sorry, what?” Said Beth, turning around halfway in the driver’s seat.

“Eddie he, y’know, helped out Sadie that one time. I can’t just let Rio ‘take care’ of him.”

“Nuh uh, you are  _ not  _ gonna track down a criminal to warn him his boss is trying to figure out if he’s an informant. No way,” said Ruby.

Beth added, “Yeah, we’re gonna call Rio, and tell  _ him  _ what we know, and we’re  _ not  _ gonna make a very powerful man very mad at us.”

“No, we’re not doing that either,” Ruby said.

“Well we can’t just do this truck job and hope it all works out,” Annie argued. “If Eddie dies because we didn’t help him, isn’t that the same as him dying because we ratted him out?”

“It’s different!” Ruby said.

“Besides, where will you hide him? You can’t let him stay with  _ you,  _ unless you never want to get Sadie back.”

Silence, then, and Beth regretted the words almost as soon as they were out of her mouth. Ruby left with possibly the most awkward goodbye Beth had ever heard, and then she was driving Annie to her apartment. The oppressive weight of unsaid words felt suffocating, even when her sister had also gotten out of the car.

So, the text. The vague hope that Annie wasn’t responding because of anger, or because she really  _ was _ asleep, and  _ not _ because she was off being suicidally stupid and helping Eddie escape the consequences of his actions.

Since when had Beth begun thinking in terms of extrajudicial executions being simple  _ consequences?  _ She was exhausted, and needed to sleep. Or get a drink. Yeah, a drink sounded good.

Heading downstairs, Beth kept her cellphone clenched in one hand, and used the other to get out a glass and a bottle of whiskey. Then, shrugging, she decided for forgo the glass after all and just drank from the bottle. It burned on the way down, cloying flavor getting thicker on her tongue as it lingered, and she thought.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, she clicked away from Annie’s text conversation. There were her PTA friends, Dean’s number, Ruby’s. And right above Ruby, Rio.

“In case you wanna get in touch,” he’d whispered into her ear. She’d fought down the shiver when his breath had washed warm over her skin, but hadn’t bothered to hide the slight smirk as she nodded. Now, though, her thumb pressed down over the  _ call  _ button, and she didn’t even feel it. Everything was strangely numb, and not because of the booze. Not yet, anyway.

Rather than pick up with any of the normal greetings, the first thing she heard after the  _ click  _ of the call connecting was, “I had a feeling you’d be calling me tonight.”

“Did you?” Beth held the whiskey bottle by the neck, eyed it consideringly.

“You had something you wanted to tell me earlier?”

Another, fortifying swig. She let him hear her swallow. “You know your boy, Eddie? The one who you dropped off at my house with no warning?”

Audible smile in his voice, Rio said, “What about him?” Beth thought hearing that smile shouldn’t feel good, considering the circumstances.

“He’s a rat.”

_ Shouldn’t  _ didn’t mean much, these days. Sadism was not something Beth was overly familiar with indulging, yet she found herself relishing the silence from the other end. Predicting her calls, was he? Predict  _ this,  _ then.

“I know,” he said.

“So the truck test wasn’t to see if he’d betrayed you, after all?”

“Nah, I don’t need anything special for that shit. This one was for  _ you  _ girls. Guess you don’t need it anymore, do you?”

“Were you planning to have us tailed?” The smell of the liquor was getting more pleasant. She took another swig. “See if we got scared and tried to run away?”

“Or pussied out and told the cops everything, yeah. I told you babe, I don’t keep rats around.”

“So you’ve already ‘taken care’ of Eddie?”

There was another pause. Had he not expected her to be so candid about it? So  _ okay  _ with it? Beth hadn’t either, but, in hindsight, it should’ve been obvious to both of them that she was far from a normal housewife by now. “Got some boys dealing with him tonight, actually,” Rio eventually said.

Closing her eyes, Beth silently hoped Annie wasn’t anywhere near the would-be assassins. If she  _ had  _ to try to save Eddie, at least let her get there early. Or very late.

“Everything’s handled, then? There’s no need for this truck charade anymore.”

“Well now, no, I didn’t say that.”

Ice, washing away the warmth from the booze in a wave from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. “You said you didn’t need the truck test anymore.”

“Not for  _ you,”  _ Rio corrected. “You’re provin’ your loyalty to me right now. Those girls of yours, though. They tried to shut you up tonight.”

“...You don’t trust them?”

“Well they sure as shit aren’t loyal to me, are they?” His voice seemed to get closer to the phone, enough so Beth could easily summon the sensation of his breath on her skin. The man had no concept of personal space. “How loyal are they to you?”

“This isn’t a matter of loyalty. They won’t give you up, not now that they’re in so deep.” Her hand gripped the glass bottle so tightly, her knuckles started to turn white. Anxiety and thrill. The two went hand in hand with Rio.

“Is this you tellin’ me you’re not gonna let them do this test on their own, like a pair of big girls?”

“What can I say, it’s in my nature to mother people. Either way, my friends and I are a package deal. You don’t get to keep me and throw them out.”

He laughed, a surprisingly warm sound. Beth took another drink as a small self-congratulatory, relieved gesture. “Alright Mommy,” a  _ jolt  _ went through her at his use of  _ that  _ word. “This test is off. They aren’t stickin’ around, anyway.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“What’s it sound like?”

“If you’re threatening them - ”

“Slow down sweetheart, I’m not threatening nobody. I’ve just been in this business a long time, and trust me,” he inhaled deeply, and she wondered if he was smoking. She’d never seen him smoke before, but she thought it might suit him, that dramatic lighting and swirling wisps coming up from his lips. “People like that, who need mothering? They don’t last, either because they bail or because they get in over their heads.”

Beth wasn’t immediately sure how to respond, so she took another drink. It was maybe not wise, and she’d be hurting in the morning, but it was what she wanted at the moment damnit. Eventually, she asked, “Are they allowed to bail, If they get in over their heads?”

“You’re the one with their loyalty, aren’t you? It’s your choice.”

With that, he hung up. Possibly for the best, as Beth was left staring at her phone once again. Her eyes were beginning to feel a bit gritty from both the late hour and how much time she’d spent doing just that. Amber liquid and dark screens. She didn’t know how she was going to get the kids up for school in the morning, nor what she would do about Rio’s implications.

Her life was a mess, and nothing encapsulated that more perfectly than her worries vacillating between the mundanity of elementary school and her life of fucking crime. She took another drink, then dragged herself to bed.

Day two was mostly spent sitting over a series of sheets of paper, all of which had numbers scrawled over them. Beth hadn’t heard anything from Annie on the subject of Eddie, but  _ had  _ been able to get ahold of her for a brief phone call. It was enough to ensure her sister was safe, if not completely sensible.

Unfortunately she didn’t have time to actually go out and check up on her in person. She needed to make sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she was able to pay Mary Pat this month. Money was just so damn tight, and after only a few days of financial freedom she found the return to these constraints positively suffocating.

Forget ice, Beth would take Rio over the middle aged single mom any day.

And then her phone rang.

Glancing over, Beth wasn’t sure if she felt relief or disappointment at seeing it was Ruby’s name. When she picked up, her tone was noncommittal. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Ruby, on the other hand, sounded more tired than Beth felt. “So, what happened with that truck deal? I got your text that it’s off, and believe you me I’m glad, but what?”

“Talked to Rio,” she explained simply. “And don’t say I got some kid killed, because he already knew about Eddie. It was a test for us.”

“Well, fuck me I guess.” She didn’t sound surprised. Just tired, tired, tired.

“What’s up with you? You didn’t call to ask about that.”

“Yeah, uh. So thanks to that free time you just bought me, I got to go with Stan to Sara’s consultation, y’know, about the kidney transplant?”

“That’s awesome!” Beth squinted back down at her sheet. Now that she’d looked away for a second, it seemed to her the numbers had suddenly changed. If she downgraded her internet, she could definitely make it this month. Why did the kids need to be able to download things so fast, anyway?

“Uh huh. Well, you like that, just wait ‘till you hear this: we got a match.”

This one took a second to sink in, but when it did, Beth was smiling sincerely for the first time in, well, two days. “That’s awesome, really awesome!” Her smile faded as something occurred to her. “Why don’t you sound like that’s awesome?”

“Because,” and here, Beth looked down at that sum in her notebook, at the little doodle of a dragon on the corner of the page, and knew what was coming before she heard it. “It’s gonna cost 87,000 dollars.”

Weakly, Beth joked, “We could always rob the grocery store again.”

“If we do that, I think we might actually have to kill Boomer to keep his mouth shut. Ugh, I shouldn’t even be joking about that.”

_ Why not,  _ thought Beth. Aloud, though, she said, “How long do you have before you have to pay for it?”

“I already wrote the check,” Ruby laughed, a note of hysteria in it. “It’s gonna bounce, Beth. What am I gonna do?”

Paper and ice and the slow feeling of being buried alive. In comparison, killing Boomer seemed like a wonderful idea. But Beth did have one last recourse, even if it wasn’t one she looked forward to. Hell, she’d have to hop in the car to get to it, so she couldn’t even drink her way through. She could do it, though.

_ They don’t last, either because they bail or because they get in over their heads. _

“I’ll take care of it.”

“You’re not  _ actually  _ planning on robbing the grocery store again, are you? Because Beth, to be honest I don’t think I can do that anymore. If Sara gets this surgery, the recovery’s - ”

“No,” Beth cut her off. “No, I’ve got - if you want to focus on her for a while, you can. I’ve got a plan to pay for it, and at this point secret shoppers is strong enough to survive without you.”

“I didn’t say anything about quitting permanently,” Ruby admonished.

“But you’re not disagreeing with me, either.”

Ending the phone call after that was rather awkward, but Beth didn’t care. Her paradigm was shifting again. She had another call to make, and she wouldn’t be talking to a friend, this time. Nor would she be talking to someone whom she owed  _ loyalty,  _ no matter what he thought.


	2. Brunch Dates

Day three found Beth sitting in a diner, not the ill-fated former workplace of Ruby’s, but one she’d never been to before. Mary Pat bustled into the door, looking better than she had in a while. The bags under her eyes weren’t gone, but were well disguised by makeup. She had on a nice blouse with only a small stain near the end of her left sleeve, and her smile looked almost sincere, if not the least bit gentle.

“What’s with the nice clothes? Do you have a date after this or something?”

Startled, Mary Pat nearly missed the chair on her first attempt to sit down. “I do, actually,” she recovered. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Blackmail payday and date night, wow. You must be keeping your baby sitter busy.”

“Not as busy as I’ll keep her if you try to short me again,” Mary Pat said. Her smile looked more like bared teeth, now, and Beth responded with a closed-lip concession of her own. Despite everything, she thought she and Mary Pat might’ve gotten along in other circumstances. They certainly shared the same cutthroat attitude when it came to protecting their dumbass children.

“Ten thousand,” Beth said, shoving the envelope across the table. “As promised.”

Mary Pat was just desperate (or just tacky) enough to count the money out in public. Beth didn’t mind; she’d scheduled it such that she had time to waste on things like this. And fuck if the diner workers cared; they probably thought this was just a run of the mill drug deal, or something. When she was done, Mary Pat neatly tucked it all away again, stood up, and held her hand out to Beth.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Beth said, taking her hand.

That self-satisfied smile dropped away. “You too, I guess.”

“Have fun on your date.”

“I will, thank you. Hey just in case we run dry on topics of conversation, what do you usually discuss with your husband? I can’t imagine your work lives have much in common.”

“Cancer treatments, actually.”

What a pair the two of them made. A couple of sharks scenting blood in the water. Beth was becoming increasingly sure it wasn’t her who was bleeding, though. Mary Pat dropping the handshake all of a sudden only cemented the feeling.

“Right, um. I guess I’ll be on my way then!”

“Drive safe.” It wasn’t supposed to sound like a threat, but Beth wasn’t too fussed when it did.

Barely a minute after Mary Pat’s somewhat stiff, albeit rather round and soft, shoulders exited the diner, another person walked in. This one all angles, shoulders a confident, relaxed slump as he slunk catlike into the booth.

This might’ve been a bit of a daring maneuver, scheduling both meetings back to back when the people arriving needed to never, ever know of one another’s existences, but Beth was feeling more than a bit daring. Like she would happily jump off a cliff, and  _ dare  _ the ocean beneath her to reveal rocks beneath the surface.

“I’m guessing you didn’t call me out for pleasure, babe,” Rio said.

“No, sadly.”

Waving over a waitress, Rio replied, “It  _ is  _ sad. Enough to bruise a man’s ego, even, that a pretty lady like you’s not even interested.”

“Who said I wasn’t?”

“Welcome to Rocky’s, can I interest you in the daily special of two silver dollar pancakes, two eggs, and two strips of bacon?” The waitress cut in, oblivious to how Beth had just managed to, against all odds, make Rio pause.

Of course that pause didn’t last long. Beth was proud, regardless. “Nah babe, I’m just here for a coffee. Cream and sugar, please.”

“Coming right up.”

“So polite,” Beth commented, when the waitress walked away again.

“Are you trying to butter me up for something? Because it’s not gonna work.”

“Well I wasn’t, but now that you mention it.” Beth picked up her own cup of coffee, blew the steam from it without breaking eye contact. “How’s an 87,000 dollar loan sound?”

Rio laughed. He laughed, quiet and low and sexy enough to send a curl of  _ want  _ through Beth’s gut, which was a sensation she hadn’t felt in so long it was actually more surprising than anything. He laughed right up until the waitress returned, shot him and Beth nervous looks, and left again. When Beth still hadn’t looked away or joined in the laughter by then,  _ that  _ was when he got it.

“You sure you wanna be in debt to me?” He looked serious, now, that lazy gaze looked so much like a predator who saw weakness, but wasn’t sure he wanted to pounce yet. Was it a matter of hunger, or the prey being too interesting to kill so soon? Beth didn’t care. “Again? I don’t give loans as a general rule, anymore. Never seem to make my money back on them.”

“I already proved I’m good for cash,” Beth said, unwavering. “And I take less than any other launderer you work for, you said. I figure this is a fraction of what you’ve saved thanks to me.”

“Most people can’t dig their way out of a debt that big once, let alone twice. I know you’re having fun working for me and all, but what if you wanna get out, say, ten years down the line? Twenty? Thirty?”

“This is so that one of my friends  _ can  _ get out. She needs it more than me.”

“What happens if I say no?”

At least he was smart enough to know Beth had a threat in reserve, just in case. When she sipped her coffee, took her time answering, he did the same. Was it wrong for them both to be so comfortable with this dance they had set the tempo for? Licking her lips, running a finger around the lip of her cup, Beth smiled. “You lose me.”

“That a threat?”

“It’s a promise. I’m not stupid enough to think I can hurt you, not really. But wouldn’t it  _ burn  _ if I went to someone else for help with this? If I owed another gang lord or whatever?”

“Don’t think they’d be as lenient as I’ve been, baby girl. You’d be dead in two weeks.”

Cold down her spine, but pure heat in her mouth. Like the lingering coffee was blood. “Then I’m dead, and you  _ still  _ lose me, but in a more permanent way.”

“You really think you’re worth that much?”

Shrugging, Beth replied, “You’re the one with my loyalty, aren’t you? It’s your choice.”

“Fuck, girl,” Rio stretched his legs out under the table, his ankle bumping into hers. “You got me there.” Beth kept her feet still, just to see what he’d do.

As it turned out, what he did was wave down the waitress, and say, “If I’m footing that bill for you, you can pay for a meal, right?”

Was he really going to have brunch with a middle aged woman? Beth didn’t know why  _ that _ made her more incredulous than the rest of the morning had, but it did. Even more confusing was how easy it was. Talking to him, tilting her foot out of the strappy sandals and rubbing his ankle, seeing his smirk. It was easy.

In comparison, the celebration she had with her friends that afternoon was much harder.

“Come on! It’s a beautiful, sunny day, and my baby’s gonna have a new kidney!” Ruby slung an arm over Beth’s shoulders, her red one-piece swimsuit really fitting in with the vibe of the party. If hanging out at the local public pool and pretending like she hadn’t just indebted herself to Rio ( _ willingly) _ counted as a party.

“Yeah,” Annie agreed. “I’m glad we could pull you out to celebrate a bit before you lock yourself away with your daughter in rehab for six months.”

“It won’t take six months. Not unless something goes wrong, which it definitely won’t. Oh god what if something goes wrong?”

Annie slapped her back, her own blue bikini much more revealing, and passed over her drink. “There, there. Have another mimosa, that’s it. And Beth stop being so quiet, it’s weird.”

“Thank you for your wonderful advice, whatever would I do without it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink?” Ruby asked, after a long slurp of Annie’s. “It’s on me! It’s the least I can do after you dug up all that cash.”

“Yeah, I’m good. I had a lot to eat this morning and still feel kinda full.”

“Are you watching your calories?” Annie poked her side. Beth was thankful for the protection of the cream dress she was wearing over her swimsuit. “Because I keep telling you, you don’t need to, Skeletor.”

“No, I’m just not in the mood,” Beth argued. “Besides, it isn’t as though you need a diet yourself.”

“Are you kidding? I gained like ten pounds last week.”

“Excuse me?” Ruby raised her eyebrows until Annie looked away. “Walking around with a fresh hickey on your neck acting like men don’t think you’re hot still. What are you, sixteen?”

“Hickeys?” Beth frowned and looked her sister over again, but Annie was quickly backing away.

“Alright, in the interest of not having to sit through the big sister talk for the fiftieth time, I’m gonna go swim. Ruby, you in?”

Ruby said, “Gimme a minute.” To which Annie shrugged, and jumped straight into the deep end. The lifeguard watching over them cursed quietly as the splash of water wetted his feet. They watched her, young but far from as carefree as she appeared to be.

“Thank you, again,” Ruby said.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Can do. Hey…”

After a solid couple minutes of waiting for Ruby to finish her sentence, Beth said, “What is it?”

“You know that thing you said, about how secret shoppers can continue without me? Did you mean that?”

Ice and fire, the sun beating down and probably burning her (she hadn’t been able to find the SPF 50 sunscreen, one of the kids must’ve squirreled it away, or maybe Dean had assumed the season where it would be necessary had ended already), yet her insides felt entirely too cold. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“Good, ‘cause Stan and I have a date night planned for the next secret shoppers meeting. Now that he’s a cop, Beth, I don’t think I can, er. If he finds out, he’ll. It’d be.”

“Bad,” Beth agreed. “I’m not angry. And the others will understand, since you’re dealing with all this stress of the surgery. It won’t arouse suspicion.”

Stepping away from the fence Beth was leaning against, Ruby started towards the pool. She paused partway there, however, and turned back. “No shade, Beth, but think about when you started thinking of ‘arousing suspicion’ so much. It’s getting to be a bit much, is all, how deep you’re getting yourself into this.”

In response Beth could only swallow hard and nod. She was getting herself in deeper for  _ Ruby’s  _ sake. The fact that her friend was criticizing her like this hurt, a bit, like a needle in her finger interrupting her sewing. But then again, hadn’t she wanted that? Her friend safe from the harsh reality Beth had thrown herself into so willingly?

Would she feel the same if it were Annie saying those words?

She didn’t know.

Day four offered no answers, other than the immense sense of relief washing over her as soon as she got Ruby’s text that the surgery had been a success. It was enough to make it all feel worth it, regardless of what the consequences might be.

Day five made her doubt her newfound conviction all over again. Beth was getting kind of sick of that; she remembered the mother of one of her kid’s classmates saying something about radical positivity. She’d been learning it at her yoga class, and said it was really freeing. The ability to point a pair of middle fingers at the world and demand it cave to your good mood. Yeah, that sounded good right about now.

Because Beth had been in the middle of returning items to Best Buy (oppressive cloud cover be damned, she was going to enjoy what was left of her morning no matter what) when Mary Pat had come up right behind her and made her damn near jump out of her skin.

“Whoops! Didn’t mean to scare you,” Mary Pat laughed and pressed a hand to her own heart, as though she’d been the one startled.

“I’m sure,” Beth replied coolly. “What brings you here?”

“Well, I was just checking to see what their policies were on fixing stuff you buy from them. My boys are so rough with their technology, they’ve already broken their X-box. I swear I buy them a new one of those every year.”

Beth was suspicious, but kept her tone polite when she replied, “I know what you mean. They just never listen when we tell them to play carefully, do they?”

For that particular bit of wordplay, Beth got Mary Pat to hesitate for a second. But only for a second. “Yeah, well, I still want them to be able to have fun so. Here I am! Hey, maybe I should pick up a get well soon present while I’m here?”

“For my husband? You’re too kind.”

“For Ruby’s daughter,” Mary Pat corrected. “I heard about her surgery.”

Her jaw went so tight, Beth worried she’d never be able to open it again. Breathing through only her nose felt suddenly like not nearly enough, and her blouse was tighter around her chest than it should’ve been. Oblivious to her sudden difficulty with her lungs, Mary Pat continued, “That must’ve been expensive. I wonder how they afforded it?”

“Where’d you hear about it?” Beth asked. “And why are you asking me? I wouldn’t know something like that.”

“Would you rather I go to their house and pester them, then?”

Silence, for a split second. Beth was going to crack a tooth at this rate, and she really, really couldn’t afford the dentist bills. “What do you want, Mary Pat?”

“Straight to the point, huh?” That smile looked out of place when the words coming out of it were so poisonous. “I figure another 10,000 a month shouldn’t be too hard for you guys, if you can pay off something like that.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Well, I guess we’ll just see, won’t we?”

Clasping one hand around her wrist behind her back, Beth fought the urge to dig her nails in. Couldn’t risk bleeding for real, now. Mary Pat took her silence in with a far too satisfied smile. “I’ll be really excited to tell the boys if I can afford some new games for them. As soon as I get this damned game system working, of course.”

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! Back with an update, hope it was worth the wait~
> 
> If you don't want to wait, or want to get sneak previews at the very least, you can check out my twitter!! @twitchingcorpse (18+ only, of course!)
> 
> Comments and kudos own my whole heart <3


	3. Something Old, Something New

Day six felt like a guillotine hanging over her neck. Time moved too slowly and too fast all at once, each second bringing her closer to some inevitable doom but at the same time… wouldn’t it be better to get it over with, rather than prolong the dread? Beth didn’t have a choice in the matter, regardless, but she could ruminate on it all she damn well pleased.

She talked to Annie about it, who suggested going to Ruby first and foremost. When Beth shot that down, Annie asked “why?” The explanation felt paltry, when she gave it. And at the end she just had Annie slumped at her kitchen table, a defeated slope to her spine. “I didn’t even know that was an option,” she said. “I mean, when you pulled us back into this thing after we paid off our  _ first  _ debt, you didn’t really give us a choice.”

It was true. It hurt to hear. Not like a blade slicing into her neck would, though.

So she took the fall, and talked to Rio about it, too. He couldn’t meet her in person again, not on such short notice and so soon after their last meeting, so Beth had a feeling from the beginning that the endeavor was doomed. But still, hearing his answer was only a bare half-step up from how miserable her conversation with Annie had been.

“No.” Just that, at first, but when Beth had pushed the issue he’d elaborated: “I don’t know the details of why you’re asking for money again, but if you’re really  _ that  _ bad with my cash, I don’t see why I should trust you to pay back even more of it. Of course, if you were asking for a bit of a boost to speed up all that laundering you’ll need to do, I can take care of that. But ten thousand? How fast can you wash that with your little ladies’ club?”

Beth couldn’t tell him this was because she had let her rotten egg stick around and spoil the whole batch. If she did, she was sure she’d lose whatever value she’d convinced him she had. It wasn’t as though he kept her around just because he found her attractive; for fuck’s sake, they hadn’t even fucked. And the thought that she was thinking in terms of her body as a commodity was scaring her a bit.

Considering his words more carefully, Beth looked at her little ledger of who among her Secret Shoppers had already finished their job for the month. He was right, she couldn’t pull many more people in, so if she wanted to increase revenue she’d have to find a different way to do it. The home office that’d formerly been Dean’s was much neater now that she’d taken over, and so she was free to pace across a floor free of scattered files as she thought.

On her fifth, or maybe sixth, pass in front of the desk, she paused. Pulled out one of the drawers. She hadn’t thrown away Dean’s paperwork, just tidied it up.

_ There  _ were the printouts of Dean’s sales for the past couple of months. Looking over them, Beth thought of something. Something that might make her sick to her stomach.

Something that might work.

Luckily, the night was still young, and Dean had developed a habit of staying up late. Beth could hear him pacing around in the downstairs guest bedroom, as noisy and unsubtle as he always was. She had wondered, in the past, if he stayed up because he was in pain due to cancer treatments, or if it was because he was hoping she would join him.

Guilt had bubbled up when she’d hoped for the former. Now, disgust welled as the latter came true. She swung open the door, dressed in her day clothes (no need to try to manipulate him with silky things; he was too simple, hadn’t earned that). He looked up, a bit red-faced from how long he’d been pacing, pacing, pacing.

“Beth!” He said, stepping towards the door before openly hesitating. “Er, did you want something? Does the lawn need to be mowed again?”

“No, not that. I wanted to, ah, ask if you’re in very much pain?”

“Huh? Why would I be?”

There was a beat, during which Beth only raised one eyebrow. “Oh!” He flushed brighter, then sat on his bed. “No, uh, I guess treatment sort of has a delayed reaction? It’s not bad yet.”

“That so? In that case, do you feel up for a nightcap?”

Getting her husband drunk wasn’t the goal of tonight, but if he’d fallen asleep halfway through due to the booze she carried into the room, she wouldn’t have been upset.

Of course he didn’t, because nothing could ever be  _ convenient  _ for her.

Day seven dawned bright and beautiful and merciless. She rubbed her forehead, breathed a sigh through her nose - and smelled something unexpected.

“Breakfast in bed!” Dean sang, dancing in with, sure enough, a tray covered in scrambled eggs and bacon. He was too loud, exacerbating Beth’s headache, and she’d had plans for those eggs damnit. Still, it was a pleasant surprise.

She accepted it with a nod, then checked the bedside table for her phone. It wasn’t where she remembered it being last night, so… “Thanks, Dean. What time is it?”

“Oh, don’t worry about the kids, I took care of them this morning.”

A guileless smile told her he definitely  _ thought  _ he’d taken care of them. He’d most likely left at least one of the kids with mismatched socks because,  _ “Who’s gonna notice with their shoes on?” _ How had he ever hidden the mortgages from her, again? But she was glad the kids were all out of the house, already.

Not just because Dean sat on the edge of the bed and said, “So, what prompted last night?”

“I was just thinking,” Beth started.

“You do a lot of that,” Dean replied, awkwardly laughing twice before he got the hint and let her continue speaking.

Picking up her fork and beginning to push eggs around on the plate, Beth said, “There’s no reason to continue punishing you when you’re already being punished plenty by karma, or luck, or whatever. And you’re right, it’ll make the kids happier, and with everything that’s gone wrong - with everything that’s  _ going  _ wrong - they need that.”

“I’m so glad you agree!” Dean leaned in, almost jostling the tray (though stopping just short). “We need to be unified, to work together for their sake, if not. Just, because you want to.”

“Right.” Beth took another bite. “So, what time are you heading over to the dealership?”

“Well, I wasn’t in any hurry. I figured maybe we could be a bit lazy today - ”

“Dean, if we want to be  _ unified,  _ we’ll have to work together. On  _ everything.  _ Not just on getting the kids up in the morning. It didn’t work out when we tried to delegate last time, remember?”

He huffed out a defeated breath, and Beth forced herself not to mention how well things had been working out with her in charge of  _ all _ of it. After all, she  _ had  _ asked Dean to look after the kids a couple of times, and she was the only one to blame for needing Dean’s help at all with her financial concerns too, not that he knew it.

Still. She was doing better than he was. And she felt very little guilt when he took her to work, and she looked in the eyes of the fucking starry-eyed wannabe actress who was desperately afraid of her, and remembered why this was necessary. Dean gave her login information for his bookkeeping, promised her she’d have admin access easily enough. From there it was a simple matter to mention to him some of her plans.

“So, when it comes to used cars, how much of a margin of difference would you say you typically get in sale prices?”

Somewhat torn between excitement (that his wife was showing interest in his job) and cautious confusion, Dean replied, “What, like based on how used they are and stuff?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Well, after about a year on the road, most cars lose thirty percent of their value. Obviously, there’s things people can do to upgrade their cars, and we very rarely end up with a classic on the lot that’s worth a lot more than its original price, but people are most eager to try to haggle those down. We don’t always sell cars for our asking price, see - there’s a discrepancy here, on the eighth of last month, but uh. Don’t worry! I don’t let people shortchange us, and…”

Babbling went straight in one of Beth’s ears and out the other side. None of the car-related specifics were particularly important. What she needed were the money numbers, and the  _ why,  _ well, that could wait until Dean had talked himself out.

Eventually, of course, he did, and then Beth could take a deep breath and say, “I know you know what my secret shoppers do. Do you think there’s a possibility you could… encourage cash transactions, for some of your cars? Or perhaps, say… offer unlisted discounts?”

“I don’t understand,” Dean said, in the halting way he had when he kind-of understood but didn’t like what his brain was telling him. “You want to use our dealership for  _ that?  _ But - I’ve put my heart and soul into this business, Beth! I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“Your heart, your soul, and our house. Several times over, if I remember correctly.” Beth turned in the swivel chair she was sitting in, dislodging her husband from where he’d been hovering beside her, one hand braced on the desk.

“Hey, Beth, don’t be like that. I’m not just being stubborn. This place could get audited, you know! It’s happened before.”

This argument told her two very simple things. One: Dean wasn’t going to agree. Two: it was possible, regardless of his agreement, if she could keep him from looking at the numbers too closely. And she already knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that she was a good enough actor to dupe him.  _ This is for your own good, idiot,  _ she thought at him pointedly.

Aloud, she said, “Fine, don’t worry. I won’t do anything hasty, but will you at least agree to think about it?”

“I’ll agree,” Dean said, slowly enough she could feel the  _ but  _ coming like a hammer to the face. “If you agree to a date night next week.”

“Deal,” she said, easily enough.

Clearly Dean was surprised by how simple it was to get what he wanted, and pleased as punch. The man couldn’t possibly think himself an effective manipulator after everything, could he?

Day eight saw the first text she’d ever sent to Rio. It was simple enough:  _ You up for another brunch date? _

Within minutes, she received:  _ I didn’t know the last one counted but shit yeah, you know it. _

Alone, that would’ve made the day great, but then Beth had to go and ruin it for herself by sending another text. This one, to Annie.  _ Do you have work off the day after tomorrow? _

And her sister didn’t respond. Beth worried,  _ oh  _ she worried, and it was only slightly mitigated by the fact that long gaps in texts had become Annie’s norm as of late. The girl had a new beau, Beth was sure, and thus far the big sister had kept her nose out of it because interfering with Annie only ever seemed to make her more determined to do the exact wrong thing.

But if this continued, Annie was going to force Beth’s hand. If only so Beth could prevent herself from inducing an early heart attack due to the fucking constant worry.

Day nine, she finally got that response. It said:  _ y do u ask??? also i saw r least fav lil shopper in here w/ guess who 5 min ago. _

Sighing, but unable to be angry with the relief flowing through her, Beth had replied:  _ Am I really supposed to guess? _

_ Uh ya. _

_ Boomer? _

_ OMFG u totally new! _

Actually, Beth hadn’t, and suddenly she was second guessing what Annie had meant by “least favorite little shopper.” There was no way that Mary Pat knew Boomer, was there? The two thorns in her side  _ couldn’t  _ be colluding, not just because it would be disastrous if they were. Dread was a belt around her chest, constricting one notch at a time.

_ What were they doing together? _

_ IDK. leslie was all smiles but miss mary didn’t seem 2 happy. _

Good news, or bad news? Beth wasn’t sure. If anything she wished that Mary Pat and Boomer’s roles had been reversed, considering. Well. Mary Pat, she understood. A mother must do what’s best for her children.

Boomer was just a prick.

Day ten was intended to take her mind off of things. Certainly, Rio’s approving smirk and offer to get her drinks helped, even more so when Beth pointed out the early hour and Rio said he had nothing planned for the rest of the day.

The promise of an extra twenty thousand to wash the following month wasn’t half bad, either. It tasted, if Beth allowed herself a bit of indulgence, like sex on the beach.

“I notice you haven’t been hanging around your lady friends as often lately,” Rio pointed out to her, in a relatively empty dive bar the likes of which Beth hadn’t seen since shortly after she’d gotten married.

“Alright, alright, no need to gloat about being right  _ all  _ the time.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” He drew shapes in the air with his fingers, long and slender and honestly somewhat obscene. “Just wanted to congratulate you. For doing so much on your own, and all that shit.”

“Well, consider me congratulated.” Beth snorted, almost got vodka up her nose. She didn’t feel victorious, with the inkling growing in the back of her mind of just who Annie was probably sleeping with, and Mary Pat and Boomer looming over her.

“I just hope you don’t have to spend too much time fucking around with your shady-ass husband before you can bump him off.”

This time, the vodka really  _ did  _ come out her nose. Rio laughed, which was - disarming, to say the least, but didn’t distract her from what he’d said. “Excuse me?”

“Well, you can’t tell me he just let you do whatever you want with the system for  _ free,  _ can you?”

Beth paused. Wiped her face with her napkin somewhat inelegantly. “I suppose we’re past lying, aren’t we?”

“To each other, at least,” Rio replied with a wink.

“Alright, well. Even so, the man has cancer, I can’t just plan to kill him off.”

“Shit babe, if I’d known I could get in your pants with just cancer, I would’ve had a doctor forge the paperwork for that a long time ago.”

Flushing, Beth decided this song and dance was stupid, and let the alcohol direct her for one brief moment. She reached out, caught his chin in thumb and forefinger, drew him closer to her across the table dividing them. There were dings and chips and perfectly round stains from condensation on it, a whole lifetime’s worth of stories told over this table, and Beth wasn’t sure theirs was quite like any it’d seen before.

“You don’t need faked paperwork,” Beth said, for once the one to watch as gooseflesh rose along Rio’s neck, instead of it being the other way around. “You just need to be patient.”

“Well, if you put it that way.”

Though Beth waited he didn’t continue speaking. For lack of anything better to do, she released him, and went back to drinking. She’d need a lot more to get past the horny feeling in her gut, and she wasn’t exactly going to go ask Dean to fix the problem for her. Nor was masturbation in a bar bathroom ideal, though it was looking more and more likely by the minute. Jesus, she wasn’t eighteen anymore, she couldn’t keep this up.

“You know, I might not need it,” said Rio. “But I bet your husband did.”

“Well, he  _ is  _ only living with me because of the diagnosis. But a criminal mastermind, Dean is not. He wouldn’t even know where to go to get faked paperwork, let alone all the pills he’s taking right now.”

“A year ago I would’ve said the same about you,” Rio pointed out. “Yet here we are.”

Sadly, day eleven did not see Beth walking bow-legged from a good old fashioned dicking, but she hadn’t really expected it to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your support so far everyone! Hope you enjoy this round of Beth's scheming :3c


	4. Biological Clock

Not on day twelve, or thirteen, or fourteen or fifteen. Day sixteen, Annie missed a planned meetup she’d agreed to before the month had even begun. Day seventeen, Beth had her date night with Dean, which proved both uneventful and boring. He had retained much of his appetite, despite his medications, and that had Beth feeling decidedly  _ not  _ in the mood for desert. Dean had been respectful, though, so she hadn’t gone right out and asked him about anything, and so.

Nothing happened.

Day eighteen, Beth was certain the other shoe was going to drop soon. Dean hadn’t noticed her tampering with his files, in part because she’d been very careful to make her sole sale so far when he was thoroughly distracted. Surely he would, before long, wouldn’t he?

Day nineteen, that damn shoe fell, in a direction Beth had neither anticipated nor planned for.

“Mrs. Boland? May I come in?”

The man knocking on the door was familiar in a way that put a pit of hot coals in Beth’s stomach. Not the good kind of heat, either, just pain that forced her teeth into a grimace. She changed it into a polite smile at the last second. “Agent Turner, of course! Make yourself right at home. Would you like water? Coffee?”

“Water, please,” he replied, sitting in the comfortable red-upholstered chair across from Dean’s desk. Beth had (temporarily) (permanently) commandeered it.

“I must say, I didn’t expect to see you again.” Beth pulled the bottle of water from her mini fridge behind the desk, then set it on the table. Her free hand slipped into the pocket of her slacks; she hoped her muscle memory was strong enough to pull off what she needed to. At least the damned thing was on silent.

“I wasn’t planning on visiting again, truthfully, but something came up.”

Polite interest was easy enough to feign while Beth was multitasking. “Oh?”

“Come on, Beth. You know what I’m talking about.”

“You noticed that I met with Rio again.” She let herself drop a bit of the friendly facade; they both knew that was what it was, after all.

Leaning back in his seat, Agent Turner leveled his dark gaze at her. Beth set both her hands on her desk, fingers entwined with one another. If she’d pressed all the buttons right, Rio was going to be hearing everything that happened from now on.

“Come on, don’t make me press you for answers,” Turner said.

“You didn’t answer  _ my  _ question to begin with.”

“That’s not how it works with FBI agents. You’ve seen the movies, you should know this.”

“Right, because fiction gives us all the answers.”

A note of warning entered his tone, now. “Beth.”

“What do you want me to tell you?” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her voice relatively level. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume you were just in this because you’re a voyeur.”

“So you’ve continued your affair?”

“What else would I be doing, meeting him in a shady dive bar?”

Agent Turner raised one eyebrow. The move looked much more natural than when Beth had practiced it in the mirror as a kid, but nevertheless, she responded in kind. “Fine, you want details? I can give you details. Hook me up to a lie detector, if you want, even though those aren’t permissible in court.”

“Knew you were smart,” he muttered.

Continuing as if he hadn’t spoken was the only way for Beth to keep her momentum. “I’m not proud. Not about this, at least. Don’t roll your eyes at me, I have kids and can smell that shit from a mile away. Anyway, I’m not… proud.

“But my husband is an idiot, and sick, and my kids don’t know the difference if Mommy’s gone for half an hour or two. And god, I don’t know if I’ve earned a break, but I want one. Can you blame me? Can you really say, if you found an escape from your shitty life and it wasn’t drugs, wasn’t alcohol, didn’t  _ cost  _ anything except your integrity, you wouldn’t take it?

“We meet up, every once in a while. Sometimes we just  _ talk.  _ And he actually listens to me, pays me compliments like it’s easy. He thinks I’m beautiful, even if it’s just because he knows I’m so pathetic and starving for praise it’s easy as that to get me to open my legs. He  _ knows  _ I’m smart, and no, not like you with your suspicions. It’s almost admiring, and definitely flattering.

“Sometimes, he pulls me into filthy bathrooms and I try not to breathe through my nose, even when I end up lightheaded during kisses. God, I’d probably be lightheaded anyway. I need to get back into practice again. And he’s willing to let me, he’s so  _ eager.  _ Well, you don’t want to know the details of that, do you? Unless you  _ are  _ a voyeur.

“I won’t hurt my family. I won’t sap their resources, won’t break my body down, because they need all the help I can give them. If I need this one thing in return, or even if I just  _ want  _ it - you know how it is, with desires, sometimes. Don’t say you  _ don’t.” _

Turner cleared his throat. “If you’re sure, Mrs. Boland. Can I still call you that?”

Straightening her spine, Beth replied, “If you want to finish that water before I kick you out, yes.”

To her delight, he laughed, just one surprised “Ha!”

Afterwards, Beth was both relieved and tense. When she checked her phone, it showed that Rio had picked up the call, and listened in on most of it; exactly when he’d hung up, she wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t going to call him again to ask. She hoped he wasn’t pissed about how she’d described their relationship. She hoped he was as hard as she was wet.

Since she couldn’t know for sure, though, she figured the next best thing would be to take care of something that  _ didn’t  _ make her gut churn in all kinds of conflicting ways. No, this problem made her queasy in a simple, easy to compartmentalize, this-better-not-be-what-I-think-it-is way.

She was going to go to Annie’s house, and she wasn’t going to leave until they had come to an agreement. Unfortunately, she would have to wait for tomorrow.

That was okay, though. As long as she wasn’t waiting for another goddamn shoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The penultimate chapter! It might be short, but hopefully it's still enjoyable~ Next week's update will be quite a bit longer, and if anyone's disappointed in this one, they can get a preview on my twitter!


	5. Climaxes

Day twenty, Beth pressed her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose, scrunched her eyes shut tight, and then took a deep breath. Letting go, she opened her eyes again, and saw… exactly what she’d seen before.

Annie’s apartment was even more of a mess than usual, which was saying something. Beth would’ve thought that, with Sadie gone, Annie would be on her best behavior trying to get her back. At the very least there had to be a point at which a single person couldn’t make any more mess, right? How many dishes could Annie use? How much clothing could she wear?

Also, unless Annie had picked up on Sadie’s fashion sense, a lot of this belonged to a man.

“Beth!” Annie held her arms out, alarm and delight warring on her face. “I didn’t expect you to drop by, uh, sorry for the mess. But, like, long time no see!”

Maybe Beth should’ve been a hardass, given what she was here to do, but at the end of the day she was a big sister first and a possible crime boss protege second. Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around Annie, and said, “Not for lack of me trying to see you, asshole.”

Laughing brightly, not a little bit relieved that Beth didn’t seem mad, Annie returned the hug. “Sorry, I’ve been kinda busy. So what brings you to my humble abode?”

“We need to talk,” Beth began, and immediately regretted it.

“Is there a  _ more  _ stressful phrase you could’ve started with?” Annie pulled away, then retreated all the way to her couch. She didn’t even bother to push the piled clothing there onto the floor before she sat down.

“Sorry,” Beth said. “But it’s just. You never did tell me if you went through with that plan.”

“What plan?”

“The one to save Eddie.”

If Annie had failed, if she’d seen a corpse in the process of being dismembered, or simply arrived at Eddie’s hiding spot to find it empty and desolate, she would’ve already started crying. Beth hated that she knew her sister was lying almost as much as she hated the lie itself, the fake smile plastered over her face and the faux-confused, “Like I said,  _ what plan _ ? just because I wanted to do it doesn’t mean I like, thought it out and - ”

“Annie, please.”

Quiet was like fire and ice. Either Beth would be consumed by the anger she could feel trying to well up, or she would give in to the isolation. The temptation to feel  _ nothing,  _ not the betrayal nor the fear, was strong.

“Why don’t you ask your  _ boyfriend  _ if he  _ took care _ of Eddie?”

Ice it was, then. “Because asking him  _ that _ would clue him in that  _ I  _ know something he doesn’t, and would put  _ you _ in danger.”

“What, like I’m not already in danger? I tried to get out once, Beth! And you pulled me right back in. You pulled all three of us back in!”

“Ruby isn’t going to meetings anymore!”

Neither of them had expected Beth to raise her voice. There was quiet, again, just for a moment. And then Beth continued because she couldn’t stand to wait another second. “Ruby wanted out, so I let her out. She and her husband have been getting really close again - she said she’s got an interview with a restaurant in town, and she’s actually looking forward to it. They’ll give her flexible enough scheduling she can still help Sara with her rehab, and she’s going to the Y with Stan next week - god knows  _ why,  _ I know it was his turn to pick but if Dean tried to drag me to a gym I’d laugh in his face.”

“Because Ruby loves Stan,” Annie said, quietly. “And you don’t love Dean.”

All Beth could do was incline her head. Both those statements were true.

“Anyway, Ruby’s out. And you can be too, if you want. I never wanted this, for crime to take over your whole life. Even your  _ house,  _ fuck.”

“But what about secret shoppers? If you’re all by yourself - ”

“I’ve got a backup, now. Dean gave me admin access at the dealership.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, huh.”

“...I’m not kicking Eddie out.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Beth sighed. “You know that means I can’t really visit, right? And you can’t fight for Sadie’s custody.”

“How could I not know, you’ve reminded me like fifty billion times.”

“It’s forty billion tops, please.”

Snorting, Annie leaned forward to pick up a pair of dirty glasses from the coffee table. “I probably shouldn’t fight, anyway. I know Sadie wants me to, but I’ve been talking to Nancy, actually, and she’s not…  _ as  _ bad as I thought she was. And Sadie’s been making friends at that fancy-pants private school they signed her up for, too.”

“You’re really decided on this one, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” Annie popped the “p” just for emphasis.

“But you’re  _ not  _ decided about the rest of it?”

Annie carried the dishes to the kitchen, with Beth following behind, reluctant to lean on or touch anything. As if making herself comfortable would make tangible everything she felt she was currently losing. “I dunno,” Annie admitted.

“Well, you know the option’s there, now.”

“I don’t want to just leave you on your own,” Annie admitted.

It was as good as saying,  _ but I don’t want to do this anymore.  _ Beth thought about it, about how she didn’t really trust that Eddie was going to also get clean from his life of crime and all that it entailed, about how young the two of them looked.

But she didn’t really know Eddie. Couldn’t, anymore, not without leading both the FBI and Rio to her sister. Could she trust Annie’s judgement this time around? Let her try to pull someone else with her out of the mud?

She’d never failed to keep Sadie fed.

Beth smiled, and though it was sad, it was also sincere.

“We can still hang out, you know. I won’t be all on my own. And maybe you’ll tell me about your little stowaway sometime, convince me not to just shoot him myself for sullying my sister.”

“Hey, I have a kid, I don’t think there was much left to sully.”

Both of them laughed, which made Beth certain she’d done the right thing. This day was  _ exactly  _ what she’d needed to help with her recent struggles, even if, on a technical level, it ended with her more alone than she had been.

That sense of profound wellbeing lasted into the night, which was the reason Beth would give, in hindsight, to how she didn’t notice Dean’s sulking. But that was hindsight.

In the moment, day twenty one arrived, and Beth was certain, certain, certain. Right up until Dean opened his big fat mouth.

“Hey, so. Tonight, what do you say we break out something special?”

“Hmm?” Beth looked up from the computer screen she’d been poring over, in Dean’s former home office once again. “What, did you find a bottle of wine stashed away? I didn’t think we had any left.”

“No, I was thinking more like,” Dean was leaning against the doorway, and swung his arms into view to reveal a set of  _ rather  _ revealing underwear.

Rolling her eyes was the only appropriate response. Dean’s face soured in an instant.

“I thought we were gonna be a team again. It can’t just be me giving you all the power while you leave me high and dry.”

“Giving me all the power? Dean, it’s not like the company’s in my name.”

“But that’s not gonna stop you from taking advantage of it,” he muttered.

Beth’s lips froze in their sardonic half-smile. “I’m sorry?”

“You know, I got a visit the other day. From your sister’s boss, of all people, and another lady. I have a feeling you might know her, one of her boys is our son’s age. Mary Pat?”

“I do,” Beth confirmed. Boomer and Mary Pat, her worst case scenario. Wonderful.

“So, I’m thinking you really need my cooperation to handle them, because it seems like they’re really, y’know, on top of things. I managed to just play stupid until they left, but they told me to give you a message. Three guesses on what it was?”

“They want ten thousand - ”

“Ten thousand more dollars, yeah. So, if you’re just gonna let these assholes pull money from our -  _ my  _ company, I figure I should be holding you accountable. Anyway, don’t you want the stress relief?”

She could’ve said, “Sex with you is more stressful than blackmailers.” She could’ve said, “I’ll do it after I’ve taken care of this.” She could’ve said, “Fuck off and die, Dean.” None of those would’ve solved any of her problems, though, and unfortunately Dean was right about one thing. Appeasing him was absolutely in her best interests. So instead, she stood up, and took his hand, and glared at the underwear dangling from his fingers.

“Don’t push your luck.”

“Is that a no on the lingerie?”

“It’s a no on the ass floss.”

Day twenty two, Beth called her baby sitter on a whim. Asked if she knew who baby sat for Mary Pat, and when the next scheduled time might be. Luckily the answers were respectively yes and Sunday, since Mary Pat and Boomer both had a tendency to go to rodeo nights at the bar after bible study. How quaint, and convenient.

Day twenty three, Beth wished it was basically any day of the week other than Wednesday, which the thought was probably a normal sentiment for all types of employment, up to and including Rio. It was part of why she didn’t contact him to ask for a gun; the other reason was that she needed to look through the dealership’s lot for a suitable car.

Day twenty four passed by so, so slowly. The kids pestered Beth as soon as they were home from school, demanding she help with the remote. And then Dean said they should all go out to eat, and they ran into one of Beth’s old friends, and standing there smiling with an arm around Dean felt like the worst kind of deja vu. Like eating something that had given her food poisoning years ago, a nearly buried kind of nausea.

The whole time, all she could think was that she wanted to be back at home, weighing the options she had for what weapon to use and trying to figure out if she should cover the car in plastic like Dexter.

Then she realized there was no way Mary Pat and Boomer would be willing to get in the car with her if it looked like a crime scene waiting to happen, and also it would be much simpler to bribe an underpaid teenager.

Day twenty five, Beth picked up an aluminum bat and a kitchen knife, weighed each in her hands, and thought about what the chances were she might not need to use them. And then she googled something completely unrelated, something which she thought might make her feel like a better person. A better wife, at least. A better mother.

Instead, she had the unique displeasure of feeling like she was watching from afar as someone else lost their final bit of trust in someone they had once sworn to love forever.

She and her husband hadn’t been using condoms, because why should they; he was clean, according to all the tests that had been done to initially confirm his cancer, and she’d had her tubes cut years ago. She’d thought that took care of all their possible concerns.

Of course the internet had to prove her hopes wrong one last time.  _ Testicular cancer treatments cause irritation if they come into contact with a partner’s mucus membranes, _ says the website.  _ It can feel like an itching or burning sensation, and be very unpleasant. Remember to use barriers like condoms during sex. _

Dean was exactly the kind of moron too focused on his own pleasure to think about consequences like itching and burning for a partner. The fact that he hadn’t mentioned this to Beth didn’t surprise her; she thought there was a chance he’d forgotten it, if he’d ever been told in the first place. And that was a big  _ if,  _ because she was now ninety percent sure he was lying about the whole thing.

He’d known how to move those damn injectables. Was it such a stretch that he knew a doctor willing to fake documents?

Day twenty five, Beth seethed and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

“Hey there,” Beth said, rolling down the car window on the night of day twenty six. “Do you want a ride?”

Mary Pat was openly staring, and Boomer had gone pasty under his scraggly facial hair. Beth added, “You two had something you wanted from me, didn’t you?”

“You can’t just show up here unannounced,” Mary Pat hissed, stepping forward. Boomer followed with dread plain on his face, but it was like he was pulled along on an invisible string. He had no choice in the matter.

“Why can’t I? You do it often enough.”

“Well - I don’t make you get in a car with me randomly!”

“Would you rather I had brought your  _ prize  _ here?”

“Ladies, ladies,” said Boomer. “Can’t we just leave this until tomorrow? We had plans for the rest of tonight - ”

“Afraid not,” Beth replied. “Limited time only offer. You know a lot about those, don’t you?”

Here, she leaned out of the window, smirked upwards in a way she knew he wouldn’t be able to stand. “What with being in charge of the grocery store, and all.”

Squaring his shoulders, Boomer did what any piece of shit chauvinist threatened by a woman would do. “Right, well. I think it sounds like we should go with her, don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Mary Pat replied, and proceeded to do exactly as he said.

With Mary Pat sitting shotgun and Boomer in the back, Beth started off on a route she’d been sure to memorize. A GPS wasn’t strictly speaking forbidden, but bringing her phone on this mission would’ve been pretty goddamn dumb. Besides, this helped with the  _ flair  _ of it all.

To her horror, Beth realized she was having fun. She shut down that train of thought as soon as it tried to set out from the station; she’d deal with it only when she absolutely had to. In the meantime, she was pulling into a neighborhood that clearly made one of her passengers immensely uncomfortable.

“Wait, you didn’t leave it at my house, did you? I don’t want to drag my kids into - ”

“Oh, no worries. Your babysitter agreed to take them to her house for the night.”

“I hope you paid for that yourself,” Mary Pat muttered. Beth snorted.

Pulling into the driveway, Beth felt herself pass the point of no return. She got her charges out of the car, patted her pocket where the knife lay, and then led the way to a front door that was not her own. Mary Pat seemed miffed at being let into her own home. Boomer had put on as much of his fake swagger as he could muster.

“I gotta admit,” Beth said as she shut the door behind him. “You’re moving up in the world, Boomer. Ten thousand is a lot more than what you blackmailed us for last time you tried it.”

“Well listen here now - ”

“Last time?” Mary Pat looked between the two of them, distrustful.

“Can’t a fella finish a sentence around here? Geeze.”

Oh, what an opportunity he’d handed her. Beth gestured with an open palm between herself and Mary Pat. Offering. “Go ahead, by all means. Tell us all about how you tried to rape my sister.”

“It wasn’t rape. She agreed to it!”

“You were blackmailing them for sex?” Mary Pat looked… lost, to be honest.

_ There  _ was the guilt, proving Beth still had a heart. Growing stronger with each step Boomer took towards Mary Pat, backing her into her tiny kitchen, past her baby’s little crib. “Well, it’s not like she was all that upset about it! Sure she protested and stuff, but girls like that, they’re not like  _ you  _ are. They want it!”

“They want… to be raped?”

“No, that’s not - you’re not listening to me.”

“I think we’re both listening,” Beth said. “Very, very carefully.”

“What, like you’re so much better?” He wheeled on her, his face going a bit red and a single finger stuck in her face. “You knocked me out and tied me up in a treehouse!”

“We all make mistakes,” Beth said, breezily. “I should’ve hit you harder, you should’ve walked out of Annie’s house the first time she said no.”

“What’s that supposed to - ”

“Boomer, is she telling the truth?”

Surprisingly, there was something beseeching about Boomer now. Like the two of them ganging up on him was enough to make him… not regretful. Certainly sorry for himself, but that wasn’t new. Did he actually feel bad for upsetting Mary Pat, where he’d been so  _ horrible  _ to Beth’s sister? Fucking hypocrite.

“She’s misrepresenting me! You have to believe me, Mary Pat, you’re beautiful and devout and such a good mother, I would never - ”

Turned out the knife wasn’t necessary. Mary Pat had a heavy book stopper on the shelf right by Beth’s hands.

She brought it down, and her blood  _ boiled. _

For a moment Boomer just… froze. His hands fell to his sides, his jaw went slack. Beth watched as his profile stilled for perhaps the first time in his scheming little rat life, and then.

He fell.

But it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t leaving this to chance, not again. So she looked up. Saw a throw pillow. Grabbed it, kneeled down (one foot on either side of his shoulders), held tight to both sides.

Pressed it down.

There was a little stain in one corner that looked like it might be barbeque sauce. Quaint. Cute. A reminder of children with sticky fingers they thought they could wipe wherever they wanted.

Though she hadn’t chosen a fast method of murder, Mary Pat didn’t say a thing during the entire process. Beth caught her staring thoughtless into the space Boomer’s face had been before he’d fallen. Before Beth had  _ made  _ him fall.

When at last she was absolutely fucking certain he wasn’t breathing, and hadn’t been for a while, she got back up. The pillow was devoid of blood; the floor under his head, not so much, but that wouldn’t be too hard to remedy if Mary Pat moved fast.

“What have you done?” Asked the horrified mother. Blackmailer. Woman.

“What I had to do to protect my children, and my sister,” Beth replied. “Just like you.”

Mary Pat was shaking her head, one hand coming up to cover her mouth. It stank like piss in the room, a smell both women were familiar with. “No, I never k-killed anyone. I wouldn’t.”

“What do you think would’ve happened to us if you’d turned us in?”

Carefully, almost lovingly, Beth set the book stopper where she’d found it. “We’re both just trying to do what’s best for our families. But wouldn’t it be better if we could do that  _ without  _ endangering one another?”

“You just - you just killed someone in my living room! What do you mean without endangering, m-my children are going to come home and there’s a  _ corpse  _ right inside the front door!”

“Of course not,” Beth admonished. “I’ll take care of his body, and you’ll clean the mess up. Like a good little housewife, right?”

She stepped forward to take Mary Pat’s chin between her thumb and forefinger. She brought her face up, so they were nose-to-nose. Mary Pat couldn’t look anywhere else to escape.

Swallowing hard, she nodded, and Beth released her. “I won’t be coming back, if it’s all the same to you. Your extra ten thousand is on your kitchen table.”

Turned out that carrying a deadweight the exact size and shape of a person was a lot harder on her own, but Beth managed. And the night was already getting pretty late, meaning no one saw her piggybacking what appeared to be an unconscious adult man to her car.

It was so much simpler to drive to the warehouse where she’d asked Rio to meet her, after that.

“What’s this?” He asked, poking his head in the car window as she rolled it down. “Did you bring me a present?”

“Took care of that bad egg you’ve been nagging me about, finally.”

“I’m proud of you, babe.”

“Think you can give me a hand making him disappear? Like, with acid or something.”

He chuckled, leaned even closer, and said, “Something like that, fuck yeah.”

_ Fuck  _ yeah.

Beth kissed him, because she might as well. Because tonight was a night of making fantasy a reality, no matter how dark that fantasy was. No matter how much she might hate herself for it in the morning, or in an hour, or thirty minutes. Beth kissed Rio so hard his hand snapped from the side of the car to her hair, gripped her tight and desperate and out of control, and Beth wondered who had been training who.

They carried him into the warehouse together, tossed him into a barrel together. Someone Beth didn’t know and didn’t care about came to take him away, and she watched with arms crossed like she knew anything about what they were going to do with him.

His poor grandmother.

Rio kissed her again, and she thought,  _ Eh, Annie can be her new granddaughter. _

His tongue was hot, forcing her jaw to stretch open wide. In retaliation she bit him, tasted blood and the exact shape of his laugh against her skin.

“This mean you’re getting that dealership in your name, next?”

“That’s the plan,” she agreed, touching his neck and thrilling at the tattoos under her fingertips. Smooth skin, so delicate and vulnerable, and he let her nails bite in. Inhaled, just a little, when she did. “Turns out we can’t just wait for nature to have its way with him after all, though.”

“We?” Rio raised one eyebrow. “You planned everything on your own so far, baby girl, what makes you think I’m gonna help you now?”

His hands on her waist made her think it. Fitting into the dip better than Dean’s had since she’d had her first kid, and the shape had changed.

Rather than tell him that, she showed him. They fucked in a side room, but even so Beth was certain his underlings could hear them. She didn’t care. He was louder than she was, but quieter than Dean, small grunts of exertion each time she squeezed him a bit too hard or arched her spine prettily for him. In return he bit her nipples into hardness, rubbed callouses in circles around both them and her clit.

Their clothes lay scattered about. The mattress sat on the floor without a frame. Everything smelled metallic except for him, who was all salty sweat and musky aftershave. She wondered if she smelled like the blood and piss of her kill, or if she smelled like the perfume she’d dabbed on out of habit this morning. Cheap and discount, but it wouldn’t be for much longer.

Rio wasn’t an overly large man, but he didn’t need to be. He certainly thrust his hips hard enough, sharp snaps that proved both his enthusiasm and experience. He growled, every once in a while, _ ‘Baby girl’ _ s and  _ ‘fuck, that’s good’ _ s and  _ ‘wanna see what you can do with those hands, you know how to use them’ _ s.

Each time she responded with an exhaled breath into his mouth, a thumb dug into his jaw, or under his balls in the spot that made his words cut abruptly off.

When both of them had come, and the condom had been dismissively tossed to the filthy concrete floor, they lay half on top of one another. “We need to take our time, next time,” Beth panted out. “I can’t keep up with this.”

“What’s the matter, too old?” He chuckled when she slapped his chest. “You know this won’t get rid of your debt, right girl?”

“Please, as if i’d sell my pussy for less than eighty-eight thousand, minimum.”

He kissed her again, surprisingly tender, but Beth found she didn’t mind it. So long as he didn’t do it too often. “You don’t need to, do you?”

“No,” Beth agreed. She thought over how easy it would be to manipulate Dean further, distasteful as it was. Could she fake another orgasm, for him? Would she even want to? There were definitely ways to get him to do what she wanted for a little while without putting out.

And as soon as she was certain she wasn’t being investigated for Boomer’s death, she could act again. If she couldn’t tell Annie or Ruby about it, that was okay. If she didn’t trust Rio entirely, either, that was also fine; theirs wasn’t a relationship of trust so much as it was respect. Respect enough to recognize when someone would be formidable enough of a foe to destroy you if you crossed them. Which didn’t mean crossing was out of the picture - just that it was unwise.

Beth liked this dynamic better than any she’d had in a long time. She thought Rio might be the same way.

Day thirty one. Beth sat outside, on a beach chair. Dean was in the swimming pool with the kids. Ruby and Stan were on her left, muttering at each other and laughing. She would ask them to let her in on the joke soon enough, but for now, she was enjoying sipping her mimosa.

Her phone rang, and she picked it up easily enough. Condensation smeared from her fingers onto the screen when she pressed the button to pick up the call. “Hello?” She said.

“Hey, babe. You still refusing to drive trucks for me?”

“Not if the reason’s changed,” she replied. A smile lit her face up like a fire from the inside.

A strange month, and maybe a  _ bad  _ month, but not unenjoyable. Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for keeping you guys waiting :"""( I've been helping my parents move and this is the first time my computer's had internet in about a week! I can't stay online for long, but thank you all so so much for reading, and I promise every comment will get a response eventually <3


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